His Paradise
1
Liam
Whoosh whoosh whoosh
The sound of the helicopter is making my headache worse. I squeeze the bridge of my nose to try to relieve it, but the pressure doesn’t help.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter to myself, looking down to the water below.
I spot the ferry that goes back and forth to Dynasty Island. I’m pissed I have to come out here. I have better things to do than this. Anything other than spending the next twenty-four hours in a small island town that isn’t easy to escape. And God knows I’m not taking a ferry that would eat up a huge chunk of my day if I had to ride it back and forth. I’m still debating firing Mack at this point. How fucking hard can it be to get someone to sell you their land when you’re offering double what it’s worth? This should have been handled months ago. I’ve already had to make delays. I thought this would have been over with by now. To top it off, I know the small bed and breakfast is struggling. They have no reason not to sell.
From my understanding, the place only has five rooms for rent, and with the stretch of beach they own the taxes alone would eat up every penny the place makes. And then some. But I’m not a patient man. I don’t want to wait for the bank to take it so I can come in and buy it from them. That could take months. Maybe even a year depending on what the owner might have up their sleeve. Not to mention it’s a small town and the community might come to back them financially somehow. I want that land and I want it now. Without any problems from the townspeople.
I’d counted on having it by now. I’ve lined up contractors to begin the expansion of my current resort that sits next to the small bed and breakfast. I need that land in order to move forward with my plans, but the owner is being stubborn. With the amount of money I’d offered they could buy another beachfront option farther down the road, with money left to retire. They wouldn’t have another worry in the world, yet still they’ve turned down every offer. Even Mack made a trip out there with no luck. Now it’s my turn, and I will come away with the deed before I leave this island. That’s a promise. Maybe the owners are being greedy and want more money. I’ve got plenty of that. What I don’t have is plenty of time and patience. One thing’s for sure, they’re going to learn that I’ll play dirty if I have to.
“We’ll be landing in five, sir,” the pilot says into my headphones, and I nod.
I started Luxury Resorts ten years ago after my father passed. I’d taken the small inheritance he left me and started with one hotel. I dropped out of college against my mother’s wishes knowing I needed all my focus on the hotel. I’d been right. Now everyone in the States knows Luxury Resorts and books with us over a year in advance to get a room. I have hotels all over America and maybe one day I’ll expand outside of the country.
One of my most popular hotels is on Dynasty Island. The beaches are absolute perfection, but beyond that there’s nothing else to really do in the small town. I don’t understand why people love it so much. One thing I do know is we need more rooms. There’s money to be made here and I’m going to make it.
I see my resort come into sight as the pilot starts to descend onto the helipad at the back of the hotel. I waste no time hopping out. I pull out my cell phone and call my assistant.
“Mr. Armstrong,” Kathy answers on the first ring.
“Keep the helicopter here. I don’t plan on staying,” I tell her, even though I packed a bag just in case. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. The bag is a precaution in case I get stuck somewhere. I’m going to get in and out of here and catch the helicopter back to the airport where my plane is waiting on standby.
“Yes, sir,” she fires back. I glance up and see dark clouds in the distance.
“Also, check tracts of land for sale that I could use for a small landing strip. I fucking hate helicopters.”
Maybe this could also be a service we offer for our resort guests. The VIPs could get planes in and out without having to use the ferry or helicopter.
“On it.”
I hang up knowing she’ll have an email in my inbox about potential pieces of land by the end of the day. Kathy might drive me crazy at times, but she’s good at what she does. I never have to ask her to do anything twice. It will just be done.